


Bloom

by quartzguts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Violent Thoughts, basically somnus's growing resentment towards ardyn, set before the episode ardyn prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Where Ardyn loves, Somnus hates. He imagines his bitterness like the blossoms, growing and growing until it finally bears fruit. Perhaps the difference is that one day it shall consume him instead of the other way around.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia & Somnus Lucis Caelum
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Bloom

The orange blossoms are in full bloom, beautiful and fragrant but still months away from becoming fruit. Somnus sees little point in walking through the orchards like this, regardless of how sweet smelling the air is. He has armies to command, monuments to build; he scarcely has enough time in the day to eat, let alone take a leisurely stroll through the trees.

And yet when his brother had asked he couldn't say no.

Ardyn is home again, which is cause for great celebration in the village surrounding their family's manor. He rarely returns these days, always busy traveling and healing whatever poor souls cross his path. Somnus can't help but feel resentment towards those beggars for taking away Ardyn's time. Somnus is only seventeen; he could use his brother's guidance now more than ever. There are a great many things that confuse him. He has been a man for two years now, but he has yet to feel like one. He wants to know if Ardyn felt like this, too, when he came of age five years ago.

When he sees his brother's ordinarily weary face light up at the sight of the first flowers of the season, he cannot bring himself to ask. Ardyn is too weighed down with the burden the Gods gifted him; it would not do for Somnus to spoil his good mood with difficult questions.

There have been few words between them in the last ten minutes or so. Somnus knows Ardyn is waiting for him to talk. He often does. It is a consequence of his infuriatingly eternal patience. It annoys Somnus to no end.

But Ardyn is waiting, so. "The people were thrilled to have you back home again, brother."

"I was thankful to receive such a warm welcome." Ardyn takes a blossom gently between his forefinger and thumb, obviously delighting in its velvety texture. "Although I was most excited to see you."

"You always say that," Somnus says, and he shoves Ardyn playfully to disguise the unintentional bitterness that snuck into the words. He can't figure out _ why _everything Ardyn does makes him so bitter. It's probably best he figure it out on his own, rather than worry Ardyn with it. "I never get parades when I return after long campaigns."

In his haste to change the subject, he has waded into more dangerous waters. Somnus recognizes this instantly when Ardyn fixes him with the pleasant smile that Somnus so hates. It’s the look Ardyn gives his patients, and Somnus is no poor injured soul.

"Is there something you wish to discuss, my dear brother?" Ardyn asks. "Whatever it is, I assure you, I don't mind."

"There's nothing," Somnus says automatically. There _ is _something, but he doesn't know what it is, so it's better to pretend otherwise.

"Oh?" Ardyn picks a blossom off the ground and looks at it like it's the most interesting thing in the world. "And here I thought you might be jealous. If you are, it's alright. I'll listen."

"I'm not jealous. Why would I be?"

Ardyn chuckles and places a hand on his shoulder. Somnus has to fight down his humiliation at being treated like the child he knows he still is. "Alright, then. Shall we continue our walk?"

They do. As they walk further into the grove, a thought comes to Somnus, unbidden and dark; he could kill Ardyn here, among the trees, and no one would know. He’d have time to return to the manor, where he could wash the blood off his hands and burn his sullied clothes, and when the servants came running he could act shocked at the news and claim he’d left Ardyn to continue his walk alone. No one would know. Even if the villagers whisper among themselves about his cruelty and coldness, they’d never believe he would kill his own brother. Such a sin was unthinkable.

The thought makes him sick.

He tries to shake it away and focus on the smell of citrus. The deeper they go into the grove, the sweeter it smells. By the time they circle around to return to the manor, it’s strong enough to wash away all thoughts. Somnus gags at its intensity.

Ardyn sighs. “I do love the groves. I should come home during springtime more often.”

Where Ardyn loves, Somnus hates. He imagines his bitterness like the blossoms, growing and growing until it finally bears fruit. Perhaps the difference is that one day it shall consume _ him _ instead of the other way around.

Somnus hopes he dies on a battlefield before that day comes, that Ardyn might live to attend his funeral.


End file.
